


The Circle

by theRadioStarr



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5329595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theRadioStarr/pseuds/theRadioStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For @araglas1989 on Tumblr, who sent me: how about Anders got caught by the templars even before Hawke gets to be the champion and therefore has no power and only Varrics and Avelines resources which aren’t enough to free him. And since Hawke is an apostate he needs to stay low profil. So it’s Carver who helps to hide that Anders has justice inside of him, so that he will not make tranquil or get killed. Maybe he first does it only because he knows that Hawke likes Anders, but later sees what kind of men Anders is and wants him not only to be safe but also to be free. :3 </p>
<p>I went in a slightly different direction, and used my own Hawke, Ginevre, who was a Spirit Healer/Force Mage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Circle

Carver had learned much growing up in Ginevre’s shadow.

Among them, how best to not-get-caught-while-going-where-you-aren’t-supposed-to-at-night: soft leather slippers and dark blue clothes instead of black when dark – or the colour of your surroundings if indoors. Cover as much exposed skin as possible.

Heavy armoured footfalls sounded up the hall, and Carver immediately ducked into an adjoining hallway, skipping as silently as he could down far enough that he wouldn’t be caught by the edge of the torch light. Worse came to worst, he could disappear into one of the small rooms to hide.

If Carver had known that becoming a Templar would imprison him as much as the mages, he’d have kept to himself. Yes, it was something that allowed him to feel accomplished – Maker knew he needed to step out of Gin’s shadow – and it allowed him to keep her updated on the goings-on of the Circle, so she could watch her back. But it _was_ a prison, and now that he was here, he understood their father’s insistence on freedom and apostasy.

He waited, breathing as shallowly as possible, as the Templars on duty passed him by. He was still young and fresh to the ranks, and there were as many rules and restrictions on him as there were on the mages. If he was caught out of bed at this hour…

Especially if they knew _why_ he was out of bed at this hour.

He gave himself a careful pat-down to make sure he still had everything, and then he snuck back down to the end of the corridor, peeking around the edge of the wall to see if anyone was coming. He saw no light, heard no sounds, and took a deep breath. He could wait another few minutes to see if another group would happen to walk by, but he could also get to where he was going and not need to worry about it in that time.

The problem was that the door he was headed for was right in a corner. He’d be seen by anyone coming from either direction for a way off. There wouldn’t be another guard rotation for another at least ten minutes, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t senior Templars out roaming and taking these hallways back to their own rooms.

_Just do it, Carver. No time like the present._

He grabbed the lonely key from his pocket and darted down the hallway as quietly as possible.

The lock clanged loudly as it unlatched, but Carver wasn’t concerned; they frequently made the same noise when they were rattled by the prisoners. He slid in and shut the door behind him as quietly as he could; it clanged again as it shut.

The cell was pitch black, save for the sudden blue glow of eyes and electricity crackling over skin.

“Anders, it’s me – it’s Carver. You’ve got to calm down,” Carver hissed out immediately.

The blue glow lit the little room briefly, but then it disappeared, replaced by a small blue flame in the palm of Anders’ hand. It was weak, but it was enough to confirm that Carver was, in fact, Carver.

His stomach twisted at the look of Anders in that weak light: his skin was sunken and sallow, his eyes unfocused, hair unkempt. Carver knew he was sacrificing drinking water to try to keep clean but there was little that he could do with what he was given.

“Here,” Carver started. He took the four canteens he was carrying and handed them all off to Anders. “This one comes courtesy of Varric. The rest are just water. Still have room in your hay?”

Anders nodded. “Thank you.” He let the flame in his palm die, reaching for the canteens. When the weight of them was gone from Carver’s hands, he reached for a bag of food.

“And these… well, they aren’t the best, but I’m sure it’s better than what they’re giving you.”

Anders chuckled, the sound humourless, as he set a small, controlled flame in the corner of his cell. “It’s not drugged, so it’s already better.”

“They’re drugging your food?”

“They always do,” Anders admitted as he tore into a piece of dried pork. “Keeps you docile, unable to cast. Feels like the Fade is just water running through your fingers. I save the scraps and feed them to the mice. It’s not ideal, but I can survive on what you bring me.”

“Well then I’m going to need to come visit more often. You should have told me sooner,” Carver told him, watching Anders’ free hand roam as he scratched absently. He must have lice, or even bedbugs. The Templars were never concerned about those sorts of things when it came to the mages in their care – only about themselves.

“I always enjoy the company.”

“Even from a Templar?”

Anders was quiet for a moment. “No. You’re not a Templar. Templars want mages like me to be locked down here, see us as nothing more than caged animals. But you want to keep mages safe instead. Make sure they know how to protect themselves, and give them protection, but let them live their lives as normal people. If you are a Templar, you’re not a very good one.”

Carver laughed into his arm to stifle the noise. “The highest compliment I’ve ever been paid, I think. Listen, Aveline and Varric are doing everything they can to get you out of here, but they just don’t have enough resources. Gin told me that the Qunari situation is starting to get really tense; she thinks it might come to its breaking point soon. She’s hoping that if she can successfully clean all of that up, she might be able to bargain to get you out of here.”

“How is she going to do that?”

“I… I honestly don’t know,” Carver admitted. “But she’s an apostate too, and they’ve never tried to force her back here. She’s taken over your clinic, but even she’ll admit you’re far more skilled with healing than she is – and the Templars are fully aware of her practising. So maybe she can get you out on grounds of needing your help at the clinic again?”

Anders shook his head sadly. “I can only hope they’ll let her take me out of here. Justice is getting more and more restless and pushy by the day.”

Carver reached across to grab Anders’ free hand without thinking, squeezing the mage’s fingers. Anders looked surprised, but didn’t take his hand back. “We’ll figure this out. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Anders shook his head. “You’re already risking too much.”

“I’d gladly risk more.”

Anders just looked at him in silence for a few moments, his brow furrowed with concern, and then he yanked on Carver’s hand, pulling him forward.

Carver sucked in a sharp breath in surprise; his free hand slapped against the cold stone floor next to Anders’ hip. Their noses were mere inches apart, and Carver started to feel dizzy, his stomach fluttering and his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“I can’t let you do that, Carver.”

He had never heard Anders sound so resigned before – not even when they brought him to the Circle.

“Why not? Why can’t I? It’s my choice to do so or not.”

“Because I – you – no. I am not worth the attention you give me.”

“According to who?”

“According to me. I am a monster, Carver – they aren’t wrong about that. All I can do is hurt people, and I can’t hurt you. Imagine what Ginevre would do to me if I did,” he tried to pass off, but Carver was having none of it.

He pushed closer, crowding Anders. Anders backed off a little, but not enough to say that he didn’t want him so close. Carver smirked at him. “I’m a big boy now. I don’t need my big sister taking care of me, and she knows that. So what? I’ve always enjoyed playing with fire. Nothing satisfying ever comes from the easy road.”

Anders stared at him for a full five seconds, but then he closed the space between them, their lips brushing together, and Carver’s eyes fluttered closed. Anders’ lips were rough, chapped from the poor conditions he was being kept in. He wondered what they would feel like when they finally got him out of this place, if they could make a convincing argument to get him-

Carver gasped and pulled away abruptly – how had he not thought of it before?

Anders let him go as if he’d been burned. “I’m so-” he started, but Carver cut him off.

“You’re a Grey Warden.”

Anders frowned, but nodded.

“You’re a Grey Warden. Grey Wardens can’t be held in Circles.” Carver looked at him with wide eyes, until Anders realized what he was saying. Carver laughed brightly and leaned forward, planting a happy peck on Anders’ lips.

Heavily armoured footfalls sounded out in the corridor again. But they had a routine: Anders pushed himself to his feet to stand by the door, and Carver laid flat, as still as possible, behind his straw pallet.

“Go to sleep,” one of the Templars on duty snarled at Anders when they caught his eyes staring out at them from the tiny window in the cell door.

“Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view,” Anders answered, deadpan. He didn’t move until they were out of his field of view. “You should get out of here. Someone may have noticed you missing.”

“Yeah, I should. I’ll be back soon, Anders, I promise. Hopefully to let you out.”

“I hope so, too.” As Carver made to walk past, Anders grabbed his arm gently. “Carver, please, forget about me. I don’t want to-”

“No,” Carver answered him. “If I get burned, it’s my own fault.”

They shared one last brief kiss, and then Carver slipped out into the hallway, considerably less burdened than before.

He yawned, letting his feet carry him without concern for who may have seen him – he was too busy thinking about Anders, and the realization that they had just what they needed in order to get him out of the Circle, and the rough feel of his lips against his own-

“You there!”

“Huh?” Carver squinted in the torchlight, rubbing at his eyes.

“What are you doing out of bed, in _this_ wing?”

It was a pair of senior Knights-Templar, no doubt on their night watch route.

“What? I don’t – where…” Carver looked around himself. He knew perfectly well where he was. “I’m sorry – I must have eaten too soon before bed, I tend to sleepwalk when I do. Where am I? What time is it?”

One of the Knights-Templar stepped forward to look at him more closely, sighing in frustration. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll escort you back to your wing. You will have an appointment with Knight-Captain Cullen in the morning to discuss this, Recruit Hawke.”

“Yes, Ser,” Carver yawned out.

He smiled to himself as they turned their backs. Going to see Anders was always a risk. Tonight was the first night he’d been caught.

Regardless, it was always worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long I'll be leaving this up here - I probably should just leave it here indefinitely, but DA2 isn't one I feel strongly about writing for all the time if I'm being honest. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, anyway!


End file.
